The Man at the Post Office

The unseeing eyes, the burns on his face, His little newsstand seemed out of place. He sold papers and candy and cigarettes, Someone told me he was one of the vets, As a young man he had heard the call, Without caring that he might fall. He tore into Hell where the firing was hot,Continue reading “The Man at the Post Office”

Section 2, Row 7, Site Number 1

The band it was ‘a playing an uplifting martial beat, He maybe had a sweetheart, young and soft and sweet. His mother she stood bravely, holding back her tears, Surely he would be OK, in spite of all her fears. Hissing and ‘a huffing, the train blew off some steam, Rollin’ to the platform, likeContinue reading “Section 2, Row 7, Site Number 1”